Eyes wide shut
by Tash45
Summary: Phil has some unwelcome news, but doesn't have the heart to break it to Dan. But Dan has to find out eventually. and when he does, how will he take it? Trigger warnings- suicide, self harm later on in the series. NOT PHAN
1. Chapter 1-The letter

A/N- my first story, all opinions welcome. Much more to come. Also, sorry for the changing of the points of view, I just thought it would be better if you knew what both characters were feeling

Phil's P.O.V

I was sitting on the edge of his bed; clutching the letter tightly between my hands. I could my see nails turning white from the strain. I knew I had read it to many times already, that I had memorised the letter word for word, but I scanned it one more time. From our flat address at the top to the doctor's signature scrawled at the bottom, was bad news. All of it.

Sighing, I threw myself backwards onto the bed. I stared up the ceiling miserably, trying to form pictures from the pattern from the peeling wallpaper above me. I knew I should get up. Dan would be worried. I could hear him clattering about in the kitchen, the ghastly smell of his burned cooking seeping through the door. And heard a loud crash and Dan's swearing rocketing off the walls. I couldn't resist smiling to myself.

How could I tell him? Sweet, innocent, gentle Dan? As soon as I thought of the idea, I knew I couldn't. I wouldn't. Dan didn't deserve to know this. He was too good for it, and I couldn't hurt him like this. But then… would it be fairer to tell him beforehand? Groaning with all the unfair commitment, I rolled onto my front and buried my face in my pillow.

Wrapped up in my own, depressing thoughts, I barely heard Dan knocking on the door, his soft voce calling out to me.

Flooded with panic, I unstuck my face to the side of my pillow and threw myself off the bed, falling to the floor jamming the letter behind the desk. I got up, and turned to the door, telling him he could come in. Almost obliviously, I bounced on the balls of my feet.

Dan's P.O.V

I had been worried about Phil for a while now. He just seemed to be acting a little… odd. I had passed it of as a phase, until I had opened his bedroom door this morning. I would never normally have dreamt of bothering to go into Phil's room before I knew he was up, but it was already lunch time and he hadn't eaten a thing. That wasn't like Phil. With my anxious thoughts on an entirely different matter, whilst making lunch I had managed to burn all the food I was cooking, and drop a huge pile of plates, the majority of them smashing.

Giving up on waiting, I had ripped my oven gloves off and made my way steadily and nervously to Phil's room. Hesitating slightly beforehand, I knocked on his door. I heard a lot of scrabbling inside, before Phil had yelled in a voice several octaves higher than his own to come in.

If I had thought there was something up beforehand, I would definitely think so now. He was swaying in the centre of his room, half naked but without a care. His face was, amazingly, paler than usual. Beads of sweat decorated his forehead in twirling patterns. His eyes were a beautiful green as usual, but were empty and scared staring at me, as if pleading for help. His hair was up and pointing at every angle known to man, as if he completely forgotten it even existed. It was terrifying.

After staying staring at him for a full five seconds, I coughed and filled the silence.

"You ok?" I said without thinking. Shit. I was supposed to bring it up casually.

"Yeah fine! So fine! Fine and dandy!" he blurted out, a huge fake grin spreading across his face, ear to ear.

I didn't believe it for a second.

"There's food in the kitchen…" I said, trailing off without knowing what to say.

"Excellent! Smells amazing!" he said as he marched passed me, the smile still plastered on his face.

His shoulder crashed into mine as he made his way out, but he didn't seem to notice. Since when did Phil say fine and dandy? And since when did Phil EVER compliment my cooking?


	2. Chapter 2-lunch

Dan's P.O.V

I studied Phil's face carefully whist we ate. He was jamming random pieces of blackened food into his mouth without even noticing what he was eating, his eyes flicking around the room. They rested on everything… everything except me. Clearing my throat, I made a few pitiful attempts at small talk, but gave up after realising Phil wasn't even listening.

I was growing anxious. I hadn't eaten a thing all day, but seeing the food in front of me just made me want to vomit. I couldn't take my mind, or my eyes for that matter, of the lost person in front of me. It wasn't right. I was used to him being so warm, so happy… this wasn't him.

Halfway through eating, Phil glanced at the clock, his eyes widened considerably. Finally making eye contact with me, Phil spoke for the first time in the past half hour.

"I'm going out," he said, with no emotion in his voice.

He pushed the chair out, leaving the half eaten food in front of him, and made for the door. It took me a few seconds to decide… but I got up, and blocked the front door.

"Dan?" he said, startled. "What're you doing?"

"Where are you going?" I demanded, and I caught myself by surprise by how angry I sounded.

Phil's P.O.V

I couldn't concentrate over breakfast, my mind was elsewhere. Wondering whether to tell Dan. Wondering whether to tell anyone. After glancing at the clock, I was alarmed by how much time I had wasted. I was going to be late. I told Dan I was going out, and then made my way to the door. Glancing up, I was surprised to see a considerably angry Dan standing in front of me. His eyes were dark, determined.

"Where are you going?" his voice seeped with venom, and I was immediately terrified of him.

"Out…" I trailed of numbly. I knew it was wrong. To keep Dan in the dark. But I had no choice… for now. I really couldn't cope with Dan knowing. It would make it final… almost confirm it. Even if it had already been confirmed. I just…. I couldn't deal with it. I was selfish.

"Well, where?" he demanded.

"Please move," I asked, almost weakly. I could see the pain in his eyes. So he had noticed something was up…

"Phil, I just-" he stepped towards me, his arm outstretched. I seized the moment. As soon as he leaned away from the door, I dodged around him, crashed out of the door, and slammed it in his hurt, confused face. I felt like a monster.

I sprinted towards the lift; I jammed down on the ground floor button about 50 times before the lift moved. I leaned against the wall, breathing out smoothly. Dragging out a crumpled piece of paper out of my back pocket, I decided to check the address once again.

Dan's P.O.V

I stood staring at the shut door, my mouth hanging open in shock, for a full five minutes after Phil left. I couldn't believe he had done it. It was so unlike Phil.

Deciding I should probably do something productive today, I stole away to my room to make a video. After a full 15 minutes of setting up equipment, I realised the microphone was missing. Phil must have it. Biting my lip, I contemplated going to get it out of his room. I wouldn't normally hesitate, but Phil had been so held back recently, so distant, I didn't want to do anything to scare him off further.

Oh well, thought to myself determinedly. I needed it for the video, and if I didn't do the video, there was no doubt I would spend the rest of the day doing absolutely nothing.

I crept into Phil's room. I don't know why I was trying to be quiet-I knew he was out. I made his was over to his desk, where I could see his microphone immediately. Picking it up, I turned to leave the room. But something caught my eye. The desk was standing slightly away from the wall, as if something was jammed behind it. Without thinking, I bent down to remove whatever it was. Scrambling behind the desk, my hand found a scrunched up piece of paper. I frowned. I was unlike Phil to do anything remotely lazy and untidy, like throw a piece of paper behind the desk when there was a bin not two steps away… unless he was hiding it.

I unfolded it in my lap. It was a typed letter. My eyes rolled down the page, taking in every word... but refusing to believe it…I WOULDN'T believe it! Phil would've told me… but even as these words rolled round my head, a tear ran down my face and splashed onto the crumpled paper. I knew it was true.

A/N- please leave any opinions, positive and negative, below! Much more to come, some criticism would be really handy X do you guys like the points of view changing of would you like me to change it? Let me know!


	3. Chapter 3-confrontation

Phil's P.O.V

On the train back from the appointment, my mind was wondering to dark places. I rested my head against the window. Blocking out the world next to me. Instead I focused on the raindrops trailing down the window, and before I even realised my own tears were joining them.

I would have completely missed my stop if the woman opposite me hadn't dropped the bag down onto the table with a crash, stirring me out of me dream world. Something inside me wished that that I had missed it. I didn't want to go back to Dan. To destroy his happiness with my doom and gloom. To be wrenched with guilt every time I saw him, knowing I was being despicable and selfish every night I stayed with him and kept him in the dark.

I didn't bother to hail a taxi. I walked back alone in the dark and rain. It was good. It helped me mull over my thoughts.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. Even though I was relieved I was finally crying, finally feeling something, I wiped them away. I didn't want to get beat up for crying. Running my fingers through my hair, I cried out in my frustration.

I barely noticed where my feet were taking me, as I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts, but before I knew it I was standing outside the flat door.

Sighing, I entered the flat. All the lights were turned off, which I thought was strange. Dan was scared of the dark, everyone knew that, and no way would he have left without locking the flat. I walked in cautiously, calling out Dan's name as I did so.

I found him in the kitchen. All the lights were off except for a small lamp next to him. His hair was a bird nest, sticking out in all directions. I could tell from his wide, bloodshot eyes that he had been crying. He didn't even look up at me as I walked in. following the direction his eyes were looking, my heart leapt into my mouth at the sight of my doctors letter laying flattened on the table.

"Dear mister Lester…" he began

 **A/N I know this chapter is a little short but I swear it'll get better. Also, I'm not too sure on this story, so review if you want me to continue**


	4. Chapter 4-breakdown

**A/N-please leave all criticism, all opinions welcome and appreciated**

Dan's P.O.V

I had been staring at this letter for the last two hours before Phil finally came home. I had defined each word individually, trying, desperately hoping, to find an alternative meaning. Maybe it was a prank? But then… why had he hidden it?

When Phil eventually came home, I didn't even have the heart to look up into those burning, emerald green eyes. The eyes of someone who had basically betrayed me. Lied to me. So instead of a messy confrontation, I decided to simply read him the letter.

"Dear Mr Lester", I began, trying not to choke.

"I am terribly sorry to report that your test results taken the previous week has returned to us positive. Unfortunately, the brain tumour has increased to a life-threatening size, and although we accept your protests to treatment, we would like you to come into the surgery for a full on briefing, so we can later give you all the advice we need… an... and…" my voice began to crack under the grief and strain. Phil, who had not spoken since entering the flat, chose now to speak

"Give you all the advice we need and determine how many days we can expect you to live," Phil continued quietly. The words pierced my heart. "It is only our wish that you spend your remaining days in comfort. Yours truly, Dr. Hopkirk." He finished, staring into oblivion.

I opened my mouth, trying to speak, trying to be angry as to why he had hidden it from me… but the words got trapped and died in my throat before they could be voiced.

I watched as Phil slid slowly and silently to the ground, landing with a soft bump, leaning against the wall with his head in his hands. Sighing, I forced myself out of the chair, and slid down next to him. I rested my head on his shoulder, allowing a single tear to leak from my eye and land on Phil's T-shit, staining it a darker shade of blue.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I eventually whispered to him in the darkness.

"I didn't know how." He just about chocked out. "I couldn't do it. I can't do anything." His voice was getting progressively louder. "I CAN'T DO ANYTHING!" he repeated, leaping to his feet and leaving me to crash to the floor.

I sat up and stared in horror as he attached our kitchen. He swung his arm across the worktop, sending pots and pans flying.

"WHY DID THE WORLD DO THIS TO ME?!" he screamed, as he picked up the cutlery rack, and flung it at the wall.

"WHAT DID I EVER DO TO DESERVE THIS!?" he bellowed, marching over to one of our chairs and threw it as hard as he could into the door, leaving a massive gash in the woodwork.

"WHY ME? ME OF ALL PEOPLE!" he cried, kicking a chair, sending it flying in my direction. I dived out of the way, and this seemed to knock me to my senses. I sprung up from the floor, and wrapped my arms around Phil's waist, pinning his arms down to his side as he lunged for the pile of plates.

"PHIL!" I screamed his name over the sound of his anguish. He was using everything in him to try and break free, screaming as he did so. I swung him round, so that I was facing him, and forced his head up so he would look into my eyes. "Phil. Listen to me. Everything is going to be ok. Just… calm down. Look at me." His emerald eyes finally looked up to meet mine. He cracked.

Letting him go, he sank to the floor. He curled up in a ball, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably and violently. I sat down next him, pulling him onto my lap, and rocked him back and forth. We both cried, letting our tears flow down our faces, and clung to each other in grief. Eventually he fell asleep, his sobs dying and his breath evening out. Sighing, I closed my eyes, deciding to join him.


	5. Chapter 5-snap

Phil's P.O.V

I'd been having a nightmare. A fairground full of solemn looking doctors with needles the size of rockets, and an angry army of cutlery coming to seek revenge. I'd woken, bleary eyed and confused, to an angry-sounding Dan.

"Phil! Phil, c'mon, wake up!" Dan murmured into my ear, shaking me gently.

My eyes flickered open, and was alarmed to see our kitchens black and white tiles gleaming at me. Why was I in the kitchen? Why was I lying on the floor? That's when last night's events hit me. Oh my god. I had basically killed the kitchen… not only that, but Dan now knew. Something told me he was going to be pretty pissed.

"I can see your eyes are open." He said, by his voice he was clearly amused. "I've made breakfast. Come on, wakey wakey!" he teased.

I sat up, surprised by how calm Dan was. Until, of course I looked up at him. It was clear then that he was not in the slightest bit calm.

What was usually a huge grin, toppled of with a pair of dimples, was now a depressed line, showing no emotions at all. His skin was dry and stained from where his tears had run the night before. His eyes were bloodshot, red and puffy, and obviously quite sore from the crying. His usually smooth forehead was now sliced up in lines of concern, destroying his usual calm and cheerful face. It was wrong. It didn't suit him. It wasn't my Dan.

Rolling his bloodshot eyes at me, he outstretched his arm and helped me to my feet. My spine cricked- _ouch_ \- in obvious complaining of spending the night curled up on a tiled floor.

"I made breakfast! You're favourite, pancakes of course!" he said in an obvious forced cheerfulness. The last time Dan cooked breakfast for me was because I had promised to buy him the new call of duty game.

"Thanks…" I mumbled, still in confusion over what happened last night.

I collapsed into the nearest chair, and Dan dumped the biggest stack of pancakes I had ever seen in front of me as I did so. I breathed in-it smelled _amazing._ Dan's cooking was usually pretty good (though I refused to ever say so) unless there was something on his mind. That should have been a warning for me yesterday that Dan knew something was up-the blackened mush we'd had. I was so distracted; I hadn't even bothered trying to identify it.

But even if his cooking was pretty good, it wasn't usually _this_ good. Dan was trying to soften me up.

Just then, as if to prove my point, Dan sat directly in front of me, staring at me with intense density. I couldn't deny I was a little creeped. He shuffled uncomfortably in his chair, as if bursting to ask me something but didn't know how. Coming to think of it, this was probably what it was. He looked like a five year old boy wanting to ask a stranger if he could pet his dog. Turning my attention back to my food, I decided to ignore him.

He coughed quite obviously and forcibly. Sighing, I brought my head back up to make eye contact with him once more.

"What is it?" I eventually caved. Dan brought his chair closer, and cleared his throat.

"I want to know… what was really going on. All the times you snuck out the house, or went to see relatives, or just got up and left without saying anything at all. Were they ALL doctor's appointments?" he blurted out all at once.

I chewed on my pancakes slowly (they tasted as good as the smelled) and thought of a way to phrase it.

"Not all of them," I said eventually.

"But th-" he began, but I held up a hand to silence him.

"The majority of them were. But a lot of them… I just needed space. And time. And quiet. I just needed to be alone with my thoughts, to process what was going on. I would say about 50% of it was doctors, 40% was alone time, and the other 10% I was actually doing what I was said I was doing. Like my Aunt Posie is actually in hospital, and I did visit. Once or twice. You're not mad, are you?" I finished anxiously.

Through the whole of that explanation, Dan had said nothing but had instead just stared into space, his head resting on his hands. There was a full, tense 5 seconds before he responded.

"Nah. I'm not mad. Just in shock, really. When's you're next, um, appointment?" he asked, his eyes meeting mine once more.

"Tomorrow. At ten. There gonna tell me how long… um yeah. Tomorrow" I said, rather awkwardly.

"Can I come?" he asked me timidly.

This surprised me. I really hadn't been expecting him to act like this. It only occurred to me then how long he must have been up before, gathering his thoughts together. And making pancakes that amazing.

"Sure." I said, not entirely sure how else to respond. There was an incredibly awkward silence. It hadn't been this awkward since Dan had turned round to face me abruptly, and accidently ended up kissing me because I'd been standing too close in one of our cooking videos. That was about this awkward. It was Dan who had eventually filled the silence.

"You want to watch a movie?" he suggested weakly.

That was how, 30 minutes later, we were both sprawled the sofa, absorbed in an action film blearing on our TV.

I looked over and saw Dan totally absorbed in the film. Sighing, I stretched further over the sofa, wondering if things would ever be the same again.

"Phil…" Dan said quizzically, and, looking over, I saw he hadn't in fact been absorbed in the film at all, but rather lost in his own thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Who are you going to tell about… about this tumour?" he said, flicking his eyes up to make contact with mine.

"Oh, Dan! I wasn't really planning on telling anyone, you see," I explained to him calmly.

"Wait… what!" he gasped, leaping of the sofa, towering over me.

Dan's P.O.V

I couldn't believe Phil wasn't gonna tell anyone!

"But… they deserve to know! You HAVE to tell them!" I protested, desperate for Phil to understand my opinion. Phil now jumped up horrified.

"Dan, you can't tell anyone. SWEAR you won't tell anyone!" I hesitated, turning round to avoid his puppy eyes.

Phil spun me round, and pulled my face close, glaring into my eyes.

"You can't tell anyone."

"But… why?"

He sighed, letting me go and collapsing onto the sofa. There was a sense of defeat in his eyes.

"You don't get it. This is my life. And, for what's left of it, I don't want people treating me like a dying man. I want my last days being treated like Phil."

A thousand thoughts were spinning round my head. At first, I understood where Phil was coming from. But then, as my mind started to absorb it, I couldn't help feeling like he was being selfish. So many people-friends, family- would want to be able to say goodbye to him. It was only fairer to them. At this thought, I decided to ask him something that had been bothering me all day.

"Phil… were you going to tell me?" I regretted asking at once. I could tell from the guilty, sad look on his face what the answer was going to be. I couldn't help seeing red.

"Are… you… FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" I bellowed into his face. He shrank back from my angry cries, wincing as he did so.

"Dan… please!" he pleaded with me.

"So… so what? You thought you could just die without me knowing? Without even giving me chance to say goodbye?!" my voice was slowly increasing in volume.

"Dan, listen." He said, a serious tone dropping into his voice.

"NO, PHIL, _YOU_ LISTEN!" I screamed, suddenly losing all control "I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW SLEFISH YOU ARE! WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO DO-JUST DIE WITHOUT TELLING ME ANYTHING, AND LET ME WALK INTO YOUR ROOM TO SEE MY BESTFRIEND LYING DEAD ON HIS BED, WIHTOUT EVEN KNOWING WHY!?"

I regretted it the moment I had said it. I saw a flicker of pain stretch across his face, and he took a step back, hanging his head.

Giving him one last glare, I stormed into my room, slamming the door shut behind me.

Phil's P.O.V

I stood in the kitchen, staring it Dan's door. My mouth was hanging open in shock.

Forcing myself to calm down, I sat back down on the sofa, my leg shaking violently. I felt sick. I never believed it was true- dying, I mean. Until Dan said that. Hearing him say it out loud, it made it true. Made it final.

I turned to the TV, the film still showing. The main character-the heroin- was lying dead on the floor, a fountain of blood trickling down his head. That proved one thing-the worst things happen to the best people. With I feeling of disgust, I snapped up the remote and tuned the TV off.

I raked my hands through my hair, wondering what to do next. I knew I should probably go to Dan- he was clearly upset. But then again, I was the one who was dying. Why should I have to comfort Dan?

Sighing, I forced myself up. After all, what I had been planning to do-it was pretty selfish.

I stood outside Dan's door, trying to sort out my thoughts. Pushing all of them aside, I made my into Dan's room.

I was lying on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tears were streaming down his face.

I laid next to him, pulling him into a hug. Neither of us said anything, there was no need to. We both knew we were sorry. We cried together, holding each other as grief consumed us once more.

 **sorry it's a bit of a long chapter guys**


	6. Chapter 6-the fall out

Phil's P.O.V

I don't know how we managed to fall asleep at ten o clock in the morning, but `somehow we did t.

I rolled onto my front to check the time- 4:27. I frowned to myself. Something told me I was forgetting something, but I couldn't pin-point what it was.

I buried my head in my hands, racking my brains for the information. _Crap._ I remembered. My mum was coming over at 5, and I had completely forgotten to tell Dan all about it. And we hadn't even begun cooking yet.

"Dan!" I hissed in hissed in his ear, shaking him violently. "Dan! Oi! Move it!"

Groaning, Dan began to stir. He glared up at me blearily.

"What now?" he snapped.

"I forgot to mention-my mums coming for tea at five, and we haven't even started cooking."

"So? It's only-" Dan glanced at his watch, and swore when he saw the time.

"Ok. Ok, I'm up." He hoisted himself up, and made his way to the kitchen. I followed sleepily behind him.

Dan leaned against the counter, munching on his apple as he watched me tear the kitchen apart, looking for pots and pans. Most of which I had managed to break the night before.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw Dan watching me, with one eyebrow raised. I threw the tea towel I was holding down to the floor, and stood up to meet his eyes.

"I know what you're going to say. And _no."_ I spat at him.

"C'mon Phil-she needs to know!" he pleaded.

"NO, Dan, she doesn't! and if you so much as breath word of it to her-I will die hating you." I growled at him. I knew I had scared him, because he turned and began searching the fridge for ideas for food.

Dan's P.O.V

I couldn't believe Phil would dare make a threat like that to me. After all, all I did was share my opinion.

We managed to cook the food without saying a word to each other, and when Phil's mum arrived I completely ignored her as well. I felt a little guilty about that, seeing her face scrunched up in confusion, but I had to make a point to Phil.

I sat subdued at the table as they ate and chatted away. Somehow, the topic got onto Phil's childhood.

"And, oh my goodness!" Mrs Lester had bellowed, wiping tears of laughter from the creases of her eyes. "You would have found Phil as a child so funny Dan! So different to now-he was always so secretive, and-"

"Yes, as we all know, Phil can be VERY secretive to those who care about him." I cut her off, and shot Phil an icy look. Tension filled the table as me and Phil glared each other out.

Mrs Lester cleared her throat.

"Yes… well, anyway I must be off. I have things to see to. I'll, um, I'll leave you boys to it…" she pushed away from the table, her plate only half finished, kissed us both on the cheek and left without a word.

Even after she left, Phil continued to glare at me.

"Phil… I cautioned.

"Stop. Just stop it. Right now." He had murmured between his gritted teeth.

Slowly, he rose from the table. He took about two steps away before lurching back, grabbing the table cloth and ripped it off, sending plates and food flying.

"How could you, Dan!"

"No, Phil! How can _you!"_ I marched over to him, kicking a chair away that stood in my path. I leaned over him, grabbing at his shirt, pressing his nose to my face.

Phil's P.O.V

I couldn't deny I was terrified of Dan as he towered over me, clutching at me shirt. But this time, this time I would refuse to back down.

"You look her in the eyes-and you pretended like nothing was wrong! She doesn't deserve that-to be betrayed by her own son!"

I shoved him away from me, determined to make myself heard.

"Yeah, well you know what I don't deserve? To have my whole life controlled-by you!" I snarled, as evil as I could muster. "What, you think just because I'm dying you get to make my life choices for me? This is MY life Dan! And I would appreciate it if you would stay out of it!"

Dan released my shirt and took a step back.

"Fine…" he murmured, turning his back on me. "Fine!" he repeated, marching towards the door.

"No, Dan please! Don't go! I'm sorry!" I pleaded, regretting what I said, taking a step towards him.

"Stay back!" he snarled, pulling on his coat. "You want me out your life? Fine! I'm gone!" and with that, he slammed the door behind him. He was gone.

I started to panic. He was actually gone…

I sank down to the floor, shaking like mad. I couldn't breathe. He was gone. I was alone…

Dan's P.O.V

As soon as I slammed the door, I knew it was a mistake. No way could I now go back in there. I made my way to the lobby, wondering what to do now.

I couldn't go back in the flat, so I guess there was only one thing I could do. I got out my phone, and made arrangements with PJ so I could stay the night at his. I left onto the road without looking back.

 **A/N so sorry for the late update, I've just been real busy. enjoy!**


	7. Chapter 7-Dan's thoughts

Dan's P.O.V

I glared at the ceiling in front of me, as if I was blaming it for the previous evening's events.

PJ had been more than willing to welcome me into his home. He had a dozen spare bedrooms, and welcomed guests as if it was the best gift he could ask for. However, he had been concerned when he learned what had happened me and Phil, and was anxious to know what had happened between us.

PJ really was a great guy, and although he had been desperate to know why the inseparable pair had fallen out about, he didn't push it after seeing my most likely crestfallen face. All he had said was this:

"You two are the closest friends I know. I know it sounds cheesy, but you guys are meant to be. You're like brothers, no, screw that, you guys are like twins, and please don't ruin it. Whatever it is, please sort it."

After that, I'd escaped straight to bed. His words had echoed round my head all night. To be fair, what he said was true and made sense, me and Phil really did work together as friends. This was the first argument we'd ever had.

But, why should I apologize to him when what he is doing is so despicable and wrong? All I did was make my opinion perfectly clear, and if Phil had a problem with that, then surely that must have been a clear sign he felt guilty about he was doing?

But, wasn't I sort of in the wrong? I did stick my nose into his personal business, even if I DID have the right to know. So, if I wasn't meant to know in the first place, can I really tell him what to do with that information? So, I guess I'm to blame.

But wait-what Phil had said to me. About wishing I wasn't in his life… that was really awful. His best friend is dying, and he had just said to him he didn't want him in his life anymore. ARGH, I don't know what to think anymore!

What Phil said was wrong… but what I did was wrong. So, technically we are both in the wrong. Even if I think hiding it from those who love him is sick, it's his life and he can do what he wants with it. I'll apologize in the morning.

Those aren't the only reasons I want to make up with Phil before morning though. I'd remembered about his doctor's appointment, and I wanted to be there. I wanted to know the facts, just in case Phil ever tried to hide something from me again. I was going to be there.

 **A/N sorry for PJ's fans who think this character is not like PJ at all, but I know nothing about him. Sorry if his house is off, I don't even know who he lives with, but hope you enjoyed other than that.**


	8. Chapter 8-Phil's thoughts

Phil's P.O.V

I glared at the ceiling in front of me, as if I was blaming it for the previous evening's events.

Dan's words seemed to be permanently burned into my brain. His look of disgust when he had said I wasn't going to tell my own mother. I felt sick at the very image of it.

I couldn't help feel enormously guilty about not telling anyone, even if it was what I wanted to do. Dan did have a point, they would be broken when I finally…

I turned over in bed, frustrated. I couldn't even say the word to myself.

But it was MY life, and I wanted to make the most of what I had left of it. I really didn't want people treating me like I was a frail little daffodil, I wanted to always be seen and remembered as Phil. That was why I refused treatment. I knew I would die anyway, but if the last they saw of me was lying weak in a hospital, that's how they would always see me. The guy who died of cancer. I refused to be remembered like that, I wanted people to watch my videos after I was **_gone_** and smile, not weep because I died in hospital.

So screw Dan! My arguments are perfectly acceptable! He was just sticking his nose in my business.

But… he was just expressing his opinion. Dan was like that, he would make sure he had a say in everything before it happens. And as far as this is concerned, this is a big thing. And, to be fair, the stuff I said to him was vile. I felt sick thinking of it.

So… even if it wasn't what I wanted, Dan was just trying to be a god friend. Groaning, I raked a hand through my hair.

Ok… so, I would go over to PJ's tomorrow and get him to apologize, and I will apologize to him. I'm still going to keep this all to myself. Then we'll head to the doctor's. I shuddered at the thought.

Tomorrow… tomorrow we'll know. We'll know how long I've got. My whole future lies on tomorrow…


End file.
